


Amid Thy Leaves I Trace

by anacoluthons



Category: The Haunting of Bly Manor (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christmas and Holidays galore, F/F, Feel-good, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, I NEED them to be happy damn it, If you can think of a trope it's probably in here, Mutual Pining, No ghosts either
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:54:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27940352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anacoluthons/pseuds/anacoluthons
Summary: Christmas comes to Bly Manor, and all the residents are keen on celebrating every facet of it. That involves, of course, hanging mistletoe - and when Dani and Jamie find themselves underneath a sprig, who are they to break traditions?
Relationships: Dani Clayton/Jamie
Comments: 17
Kudos: 290





	Amid Thy Leaves I Trace

**Author's Note:**

> after that ending, i needed to write some feel good christmas fic. this is probably cliché and tropes abound but i couldn't help myself.
> 
> i am not british, so any mistakes on slang are my own.
> 
> i basically listened to [if only by TEEKS](https://youtu.be/u17JkBm-zes) on repeat while writing this, so if you want to set the mood, i'd recommend giving it a try.
> 
> enjoy! :)

**_Winter, after much_** contemplation, had finally arrived at Bly Manor—first, the temperature had dropped by a truly alarming amount, almost overnight, it seemed, the children exclaiming with delight one morning when they awoke to it being chilly enough for frost to coat the green grass in a glittering sea. The snow followed soon after that, blanketing the grounds and statues in brilliant white, a merry twinkle that could be seen from the corner of the eye at every window passed in the hall. The manor, despite the chill outside, remained as warm as ever, Hannah intent on keeping every fire lit and chasing away the dark shadows that crept across the floors earlier and earlier every night.

And winter, of course, meant the holidays were approaching rapidly; a time of year that inspired genuine excitement in every person at Bly Manor—the children, of course, were no exception. Back and forth Miles and Flora went, helping Owen and Jamie pull boxes and boxes of decorations down from the attic, wiping away the cobwebs and excitedly pulling open the flaps of each one to see what was inside.

It had been a long while yet since Dani had lasted celebrated the holidays. Not since Eddie, in any case; in the years following, she had made sure she was too busy to celebrate, letting the people she had stayed with decorate as they liked and making up excuses to not be part of the celebrations. It had been difficult enough answering the calls from her mother when she knew where Dani was still at home in the states, and then later, at a hostel in the city, a stilted, “Merry Christmas, dear,” every day of and an awkward silence that Dani wasn’t sure how to fill in the wake of it. She was always so sure that her mother was on the verge of asking her to come home, the question resting just at the tip of her tongue, but she never voiced it—instead, Dani wished the same back to her, and that was the end of the conversation. Since coming to London, there had been no more calls. Though she missed the mother she once knew in days gone past, the woman she knew now was desperately hopeful for something that would never happen, a call that Dani had found someone new, more in line with her mother’s beliefs about who she should be with, and Dani had made sure that those holiday calls would not come again until she was ready for them.

Though they were still putting different festive items up, and the tree had only gone up earlier in the week, it already felt better than any celebration Dani had had to suffer through with her mother, especially after the funeral. It had felt like her mother was trying to punish her, and though it hadn’t been intentional, it had buried deep in Dani all the same, barbed wire leaving jagged holes in her heart.

“Miss Clayton!” Flora was saying, and it brings Dani back to the present, a small smile turning up her lips as the little girl approached. Thoughts of her mother can wait, she thinks, until after she has thoroughly immersed herself in the holiday spirit at Bly Manor. “Where should I hang this?”

“Do you even know what that is?” Miles asks, doing his best to arch his brows with a sense of superiority from where he stands at the staircase, helping Owen string garland around the railing. He had picked up the habit of raising them like that from Jamie, with no amount of amusement from the gardener. Hannah was becoming less amused by the day, but the exasperation on her face was always fond, never legitimate.

“Why, it’s mistletoe, of _course,_ ” Flora replies, shaking her head. Dani has to hide a bigger smile behind her hand, though Jamie holds no such reserve, grinning from where she’s tying strands of holly around the lights in the main hall.

“Yes, but do you know what it’s **for?** ” Miles continues, attention drawing back to his task. Owen has somehow gotten garland draped around his neck, and he mimes wrestling with it, drawing a laugh from the boy.

“Of course I do,” Flora says, running small fingers over the red ribbons tied around the sprigs. It’s obviously fake, bright green and pasty white, and Dani idly wonders if Jamie grows any real mistletoe on the property. “If you get caught under mistletoe with someone, you have to give them a kiss on the cheek. Like this!” And she draws Dani down by the hand, smacking a kiss onto her cheek. The action startles a laugh out of Dani, and she gives Flora a quick hug, holding her tightly against her for a moment, in return.

“And that’s close enough to the truth for me,” Hannah says in response, placing a hand on Flora’s head. “In the meantime,” she continues, giving Miles a pointed look when he opens his mouth, “We won’t be discussing any other meanings it may have.” Miles mimes zipping his lips up and finishes wrapping the green wiring in his hands around the banister, Owen tying it off with a large red bow he’d pulled out of one of the boxes.

“Now then,” Owen says, stepping back to admire his handiwork, “Why don’t we move onto the kitchen, hm? I think I saw some bells we could put on the table.”

“Oh, that sounds just lovely,” Hannah agrees, and the two of them smile at each other for a moment, Dani not missing the warmth matching in each of their gazes. Jamie rolls her eyes somewhere in the background, but it’s good-natured, an affectionate twist to her lips as she steps down the ladder she had set up by the wall. Dani thinks it’s sweet, watching Hannah and Owen interact; by now, they have to already know that everyone is aware of their budding relationship, but that doesn’t stop them from trying to steal away when no one is looking and sending secretive glances each other’s way. Dani thinks it’s a nice change, being so ensconced in the honeymoon phase. She had never felt the head-over-heels, all-encompassing affection that’s supposed to come with starting a new relationship, but—she already known from the jump that Edmund hadn’t been what she was looking for. “Flora, why don’t you come with me, and we can find a place to hang that mistletoe? Somewhere nobody will expect.”

The group of them move on, Owen and Hannah carrying a few smaller boxes to the kitchen, Miles and Flora in tow, leaving Dani and Jamie to finish up what little is left to do in the entryway. Dani doesn’t mind the silence that descends, finding it comforting to be in the other woman’s presence, though she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t been trying to think of ways to broach a conversation since the moment the others had left. Jamie is still something of a mystery to her, biting wit and sharp edges, but there’s more there that she’s drawn to despite herself. After their initial meeting, they had become fast friends, Dani surprised to find herself slot in as easily with the woman as she had with Hannah and Owen. That was just the effect the people of the manor had on her, it seemed.

“Are the holidays always like this around here?” she finally asks, placing small, twinkling stars in gold and silver on side tables tucked away into corners. She turns back and forth, watching the way the light plays off them and adjusting them minutely to make sure they really shine.

“Oh, absolutely,” Jamie responds, crossing from the wall to the stairs and beginning to dig through one of the boxes. “Oftentimes it’s even worse. Henry loves when the kids go all out.” The _‘when he’s here,’_ is left unspoken, though Dani reads it all too clearly in the thin line of Jamie’s mouth.

“It gets worse than this?” Dani asks, trying to keep up the cheer as she draws her fingertips down the garland on the railings and approaches the rest of the boxes. Jamie is still digging, muttering under her breath, but she looks up as Dani gets closer, the sour turn to her mouth already gone.

“Hard to believe, eh?” she replies, her gaze flickering somewhere around Dani’s throat before she turns back to the box. Dani is tempted to move a hand, see if there’s something there, but the desire passes just as quick as it came, and she doesn’t move. “Ah, here we are!” Jamie suddenly exclaims, sitting back on her heels as she pulls a deeply concerning bundle of tinsel and lights tangled all together out of the box. It appears as if the whole house’s stock of tinsel is in that mess, and Dani desperately hopes that there is another box somewhere else that has the rest of the tree decorations in it, separate and not all knotted up, or they are in for a very long night. She’s tempted to ask who had thought of the wise idea to store them like that, but she has the sneaking suspicion that she already knows the answer. “C’mere, Poppins. Help me untangle this, would ya’?”

Dani goes willingly enough, thrilling a little at the nickname she’s been gifted, and sits beside the gardener, watching Jamie’s movements carefully. Jamie’s fingers are slim and quick, used to winding around the green stalks of plants expertly and pulling only what she needs, and Dani, unable to help herself, feels her mind begin to drift to what else Jamie may be able to do—but she cuts that train of thought off immediately, reaching around where Jamie’s hands are working to try and untangle some decorations of her own. She’s careful not to touch Jamie’s hands, worried she would disrupt the quick, nimble movement of her fingers. Tinsel seems to be the biggest contributor to the mess, so she begins separating it and placing it beside the box, forming a tiny pile of silver.

It isn’t the first time Dani has thought about Jamie like this. It is, however, the first time she has seen a friend in the hazy, rose-tinted light of attraction; she’d had few friends in her youth, none of them inspiring the reaction in her. Strangers had prompted it, on occasion, a passing glance here and there, but those had slid from her shoulders like rainwater, Dani always with her eyes down and never seeking them out. And she had certainly never entertained thoughts like that about Eddie—wished to have them, perhaps, in the same way he had thought about her, but they had never come naturally. Before they had been engaged, she had never wondered what his hands might feel like on her, or what he would look like beneath the sweaters he was always wearing; he was simply her friend, a friend she cared about deeply, but there was no more to it than that. It had been nothing but an effort to make herself feel the way she was **supposed** to.

It didn’t work.

Jamie, though—even with Dani scolding herself as soon as the ideas cross her mind, they still crop up, unbidden, thoughts about what her hands might feel like circling Dani’s hips or what her lips might taste like. Thoughts that plague Dani late at night, when she lays awake in her bed and stares hopelessly at the ceiling, as if it would provide her the answers she needs.

A few minutes of silence pass like that, smooth and comfortable, even with Dani’s inner monologue, before she feels eyes on her—she looks up, surprised to see Jamie staring directly at her, gaze intense and focused in a way Dani isn’t used to. Her breathing stutters, just a little, a blip in an otherwise smooth series of seconds, before restarting, and she regards Jamie as plainly as the woman regards her.

“You’ve got something there,” Jamie says, gesturing at a spot on her own head, and Dani’s gaze flickers away, concentrating as she tries to locate where Jamie is pointing, working through her hair. “No, it’s—” and Jamie reaches out, hesitating only briefly before she slips her fingers through a few strands of Dani’s hair. Dani is absolutely convinced she’s going to burst a blood vessel with the effort not to move. She remains frozen, not wanting to scare Jamie off, not even daring to breathe, while Jamie pulls away, holding a single strand of tinsel. “Here you are,” Jamie says, low and familiar in the warm, thrumming air between them, and Dani finally peers at what she’s holding: a delicate silver strand of tinsel, resting innocently between Jamie’s fingers.

“Oh, uh—thank you. I don’t know how that happened,” Dani says, nervous, so nervous she is sure Jamie is able to hear it in her voice. Jamie chuckles, low and a little raspy, and a shiver tickles up Dani’s spine, hair lifting at the base of her neck. Dani is starting to find more and more that she likes it when she makes Jamie laugh, the sound igniting a pleasant flutter in her every time.

“Anytime, Poppins,” Jamie hums in response, rubbing her fingertips together so the plastic strand catches the light, winking back at them. Dani glances up and away from the tinsel, catching Jamie’s eye again, unsurprised, but hesitantly delighted, to find the woman still fixed on her.

“Jamie! Miss Clayton!” Miles calls from the hall, the sound of running feet following, and though Dani hadn’t been doing anything suspicious with Jamie, nothing more than accepting a gesture of help from a friend, she still shifts enough to stand, brushing glitter off the back of her pants. Putting some distance between them is good, she thinks; her brain is a little muddied, as if trying to wade through the pond outside, and she knows that it has absolutely everything to do with being so close to Jamie.

“What is it, Miles?” she asks, and Jamie stands up from her crouch behind her, putting the rest of the bundle back in the box. They hadn’t made much progress on it at all, but perhaps tomorrow would bring better luck.

“Owen is making hot chocolate. Do you want one?” he queries as he comes around the corner, face lighting up at the sight of more decorations having been put out. Really the only thing they had done is place some glittering plastic stars and finish hanging festive bundles of plants and ribbons, thanks to Jamie, but it’s enough to delight Miles, and Dani is sure it’s enough to delight Flora, as well.

“Yes, I think I would,” Dani replies, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. She chances a look over her shoulder, watching Jamie similarly brush glitter and tinsel from her thighs.

“I’d love to stay; you know I would—but I think it’s time for me to head back. Someone’s got to get some work done around here tomorrow,” Jamie says with a grin, ruffling Miles’s hair as she heads towards the front doors. “See you in the morning, Miles.” A pause, and then she looks at Dani, her grin settling into something smaller, more private, as she pulls her coat on. Dani’s heart jumps at it, and though she does her best not to show it, Jamie’s eyes still drop, just slightly, as if she can see the rapid beat of Dani’s pulse at the hinge of her jaw. “Dani.”

It’s sometime later, when Dani has finished the drink Owen had made and is sitting beside the fire in the kitchen, Hannah and the cook murmuring quietly behind her, that she realizes that that was one of the few times Jamie had called her by her name. With her, it’s always a nickname, a random term of endearment she thinks up on the spot—never Dani.

She finds that she likes it quite a bit.

***

The next day passes in a blur, the children far too excited at the prospect of decorating the tree to pay attention in their classes. Having classes on Christmas Eve hadn’t seemed right, but Dani knew it was going to be impossible to get them into the schoolroom between Christmas and New Year’s, and she had lessons to teach, and besides—there was nothing wrong with letting them out a little earlier than usual. Flora gave it her best effort, she really did, but she glanced at the clock every few seconds, having to be asked questions more than once before Dani got an answer. Miles was nearly vibrating in his seat, and finally, Dani told them both to take a break around noon, unable to keep their attention on anything for any longer. The break is a pretense, she knows; they’re as unlikely to come back to the classroom as she is. They both shoot out of their seats and down the hall with no hesitation, Dani calling a warning not to run in the halls after them—but it, of course, goes unheeded. Their excitement is palpable, and Dani finds herself swept up in the holiday spirit already, taking a slower path down the hall and looking at the lights Owen had been hanging up and down the wing all day. After breakfast, he had set to his task with the utmost gusto, Hannah passing by every now and then to critique and try not to laugh along at his terrible jokes.

She passes by a few windows before coming to a stop, spying a spot of color in all that white outside the window. Jamie is shuffling around in the snow, at least up to her knees in it, a red bandana tied around her hair. It’s that bright fabric that had initially caught Dani’s attention, and she continues to watch as Jamie loops around behind a few hedges, disappearing in the green. Dani catches sight of her again soon enough, and as if she can sense it, Jamie looks up, squinting in the glare of the sun before propping a hand over her eyes and staring at the window Dani is looking out of. Dani jumps, almost ducking out of sight, before waving a little sheepishly through the frosted glass. She isn’t sure if Jamie can see her, but the gardener must at least sense that someone is there, because even through the thick glass, Dani can see a smile stretch across her face before she drops her eyes down to concentrate on where she’s walking. Dani feels warmth bloom in her chest, and she bites her lip, pausing for a moment before she makes the rest of the way to the kitchen.

Though the children had run out a short time ago, they hadn’t come to the kitchen for lunch yet, and neither had Hannah or Owen, leaving the space for Dani to claim as her own. She does a slow circuit around the counter and the table, and then comes back to the stove, drumming her fingers on the cool surface in thought. Though she’s quite terrible at it, she is still struck with the sudden desire to try and make tea again, just this once. Miles had done his best to coach her, as had Hannah, and she thinks she’s starting to get it; the other inhabitants, unfortunately, aren’t quite under the same impression.

Before she can reach for the kettle, however, she hears a door open further down the entryway, and when she glances over her shoulder, Jamie is stomping her feet on the rug, shaking some of the snow off her boots and pants. Her hair is in disarray, cheeks pink from the cold, and when leans back to run a hand through her hair, shirt lifting, Dani nearly bites through her tongue. She was operating under the (clearly misguided) impression that the temperature is far too low for hems that high, but it seems Jamie doesn’t care, offering Dani a radiant smile as she kicks her boots off and traipses into the kitchen.

“Afternoon, Poppins,” Jamie greets, shrugging her coat off and draping it over one of the chairs as she comes around the table. Dani blinks, roused from her musings, and offers as strong a smile as she can manage.

“Hey,” Dani says, a little weakly, and gestures at the kettle. Now she definitely needs something to distract herself with. “Can I make you some tea?”

“Er…” Jamie starts, running a hand over the back of her head. “You sure about that one?”

Dani huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. Her inability to make a proper British cup of tea had become something of a running joke, though it’s one she never minds; she had quickly decided it’s nice to be a part of good-natured teasing, especially since it seems to be rather far up on the list of terms of endearment for the residents at Bly.

“I can’t be that bad at it. Miles taught me some tricks.”

“Trust me, love. You’re pretty bad,” Jamie replies, but her teasing is in good humor, a smile ticking at one side of her mouth. Dani’s own lips twitched, the endearment pleasantly warming the back of her neck, though she fights valiantly not to return the expression. Jamie walks around the counter to stand beside Dani, fingertips resting on the kettle. “I’ll make some for you, if you like,” she offers.

“That’d be great.” Jamie nods, bringing the kettle over to the sink and filling it with water. She places it on the stovetop and turns a dial until the flame beneath ignites, Dani watching the graceful movement of her hands as she leans her hips back against the countertop. It’s satisfying, existing in the same space as Jamie, though not without its anxieties; Dani is, as always, hyper aware of how little room exists between them, skin tingling at the barest inches between their arms.

“I thought I saw someone looking at me through the windows earlier,” Jamie starts conversationally, a little too casually, and Dani’s slow inhale cuts off abruptly into a cough, one that she tries to catch with a clear of her throat. She doesn’t think it works. “On the second floor. Any idea who that might have been?”

“Nope!” she answers, a little too loudly and definitely too quickly. She taps her right fingers on the counter, an uneven, staccato beat, but that’s all, Dani adamantly staring out into the kitchen and not at the side of Jamie’s head.

“Interesting,” Jamie responds, and when Dani feels something touch her hip, her eyes slant down, watching Jamie place her hands on either side of Dani’s waist. Her gaze darts back up, quick as a rabbit, to focus on Jamie’s _very_ pretty face _quite_ close to her own. The gardener is watching her intently, something playful hiding at the curl of her smile, but she doesn’t lean any closer, leaving her arms to bracket Dani in. “Because it looked a lot like you, waving down at me in the cold.”

“I was just—saying hi. Being friendly,” Dani says, a flush crawling up her neck, and Jamie’s eyes dip; Dani is sure she’s watching the color spread across her skin. She is tempted to wring her hands together in front of her, but if she does that, she would brush Jamie’s waist, and Dani isn’t sure how she’d live with **that** one: finally knowing if Jamie’s abdomen is as wiry and well-toned as the rest of her.

She had caught glimpses here and there, of course; Jamie was always working somewhere on the grounds, and Dani had caught herself wandering about at similar times, not explicitly **hoping** to catch the gardener hard at work, but certainly not avoiding her, either. And catch sight of Jamie, she had, more than once—Dani had only seen the tantalizing strip of skin along Jamie’s lower back once and had not forgotten it since.

“Friendly,” Jamie repeats, tilting her head to regard Dani intently, her gaze sharp as a knife beneath the delicate line of her brow, “Or flirty?”

And that is the question, isn’t it? What had Dani been doing all this time, following after Jamie, trying to run into her, sharing glasses of wine by a crackling fire? What was it for? She doesn’t believe for a second that Jamie had not realized Dani’s attraction to her, however unsure or reluctant it may be, given Dani’s hovering around her when she works and the way her eyes always seek out Jamie’s when the other woman enters the room. But what is Jamie’s goal in entertaining it? In gently pulling silver strands from Dani’s hair, in crowding her in close against the counter, in watching pink blossom over Dani’s throat with hooded eyes?

Only one way to find out, really, and the new Dani, the one who had moved to England on a whim, the one who was spending her days flirting dangerously with the pretty gardener, would not step down from a confession.

“Both,” Dani responds after much thought, barely above a whisper, watching the slow stretch of Jamie’s pupils outward. Finally, hesitantly, she reaches out, curling her fingers lightly into the hem of Jamie’s shirt, fabric soft against her hand.

“I’ll remember that,” Jamie murmurs. She observes Dani for a second more, gaze almost uncomfortably steady, before she trails her fingers down the underside of Dani’s right arm, goosebumps rising beneath her sleeve in its wake. Just that, and then is she was stepping away, hands ghosting over Dani’s sides as Dani’s own fingers slip from her shirt. Dani realizes the kettle is whistling, steam rising out of the spout, but she can’t take her eyes off Jamie, who has not broken eye contact for a second since she had finished watching Dani flush straight down to her clavicles.

“See you later, Poppins,” Jamie says, low and just this side of rough, and it sounds like a _promise_. A shiver races down Dani’s spine as the gardener backs further way, Dani able to feel the weight of her gaze all the way up until Jamie turns, picking her coat up off the chair and grabbing her boots on the way out into the back section of the house.

She becomes aware, minutes later, that Jamie hadn’t even taken a mug of tea—she’d left the kettle where it was, no leaves, no milk, nothing. Had she come all that way just for that?

Oh, she is in trouble.

***

Similarly to the school day, the time in the aftermath of that moment passes quickly—afternoon snacks for the children, a fruitless effort to get them back in the classroom, Hannah dusting off ornaments in the other room, until the sun had set and it was the hours after dinner had been served. It was cold in the house, winter trying to claw its way through the panes of glass that separated them from the dark, but it was warm, borderline toasty, in the main room, fire popping in its place beneath the mantle as the group of them work in tandem to put the final touches on the tree’s position.

Or, rather, Owen struggles to shift it, Flora critiques him, and the rest of them carefully polish ornaments.

“No, Owen, put it over there,” Flora directs, gesturing at a separate location to put the tree that is just slightly to the right. A few minutes before, it had been slightly to the left. Owen grunts, trying to move it again on his own. Jamie hasn’t arrived yet, promising something more for the house, and though Miles had wanted to help, Dani and Hannah both had put that suggestion to rest.

“Oh, give the poor man a break, dear,” Hannah implores, wiping off a set of twinkling icicle baubles she had pulled from one of the cartons. Thankfully, there had been boxes upon boxes of well-maintained, not completely tangled tree decorations, and Dani had descended upon them with relief. “It’s been up for three days already. We don’t need to be moving it all over the house on Christmas Eve.”

“Yes, I _fern_ -ly believe this tree looks perfect where it is,” Owen tries, Dani cracking a grin as Hannah places a hand over her forehead. Flora, arms crossed over her chest and wearing a deathly serious expression, tilts her head this way and that before finally giving a nod.

“Goodness sake, Owen, can you hold off on the puns until Christmas day, at least? For my sake.”

“Ferns aren’t even a part of Christmas,” Miles tuts, as if personally offended at Owen bringing up the wrong plant for the season. Dani smothers a laugh and passes him a circular ornament painted with a scene of a horse drawing a sleigh, and he motions at it with his free hand. “See? Pine trees. **Not** ferns.”

“Who’s in here badmouthing ferns?” Jamie asks, rounding the corner with two pots in her hands. Snowflakes are melting slowly in her hair, Dani watching as they turn from crystals into tiny, glittering droplets of water. Jamie catches her looking, one side of her mouth tugging up, and Dani’s eyes dart away, embarrassed. Flora points openly at Miles, who shakes his head quickly.

“I wasn’t, Jamie, honest. _I_ was talking about Owen’s joke. He made one about ferns! When Christmas is tomorrow!”

“My, the absolute scandal,” Hannah hums, amused, and Dani hands off the box of baubles to approach Jamie, enraptured by the plants in her hands. A beautiful, leafy green shoot grows into petals bursting with crimson color, and she isn’t sure she’s seen a deep red like that in her life. Not since—well. Best not to think about what color they match for too long. She bites her lip, chasing the thoughts away as best she can.

“What are these?” Dani asks, fingertips hesitating over the petals. Jamie tips her chin in a nod, and Dani reaches out gently, drawing a fingertip down one of them. Not a petal, then—another leaf. How unexpected. Her mother hadn’t been one for so much red or green during the holidays, preferring a more traditionally religious approach, and Dani is hypnotized by such a bright burst of color.

“They’re point-settia,” Flora pipes up, starting to place ornaments carefully around the base of the tree with Hannah’s assistance.

“ **Poin** settia,” Miles corrects, without the ‘t.’ “They only start to change color in the winter, you know. Jamie grows them all over the grounds.” He sounds proud, like he had grown the plants all by himself.

“That’s very interesting, Miles,” Dani comments, distracted, catching Jamie’s eye over the red leaves. Again, she is looking at her intently, and Dani wishes, with all her might, that she could read the expression in them; it’s like looking into twin pools, wide and endless and blue-green as the pond beneath the ice, but somehow perfectly reflective, Dani only able to see the fire and the lights and her own eyes looking back.

Jamie doesn’t say anything, instead inclining her head to the side. Despite the movement, her eyes don’t leave Dani’s, eyelids falling until all Dani can see are the deep wells of her pupils and the lower ring of her irises.

“Miles helped me plant them earlier this year. After all that hard work, he couldn’t wait for them to turn.” She’s talking about plants, Dani knows that, but it almost feels like Jamie is talking about something else—she can’t say what for sure, though. She’s found that it’s usually best to ignore the hopeful little leap her heart gives every time she thinks (or hopes) Jamie is referring to her. However, in defiance of her own strategy, Dani’s heart is still trying to claw its way out of her ribs, and she has to step back, doing her best to suck in a quiet, but very deep, breath.

“And look at them now,” Hannah says, starting to hang the ornaments she had been polishing higher up. Owen takes one from her hands, putting it almost at the top, and she gives him a thankful smile, placing the hand that had been holding the string on his shoulder. Dani smiles, small, privately, to herself. “They’re beautiful, Jamie. Truly.”

“Not bad, eh, Poppins?” Jamie asks, and when Dani brings her eyes back to her, she winks, nudging Dani’s arm with one of the plants. It seems the earlier intensity has fizzled away, and Dani has to fight the strange disappointment that sweeps through her. “Help me put them out, would ya’? Seems you have an eye for these things.”

“Oh, of—of course,” Dani agrees, taking the offered plant. More and more, Jamie is putting her on the back foot, and she’s starting to feel a little off-balance, as if one errant word or glance will sweep her entirely off her feet. She wonders if this is a feeling that will persist with Jamie, or if she will somehow, eventually, get used to it. More privately, she wonders if it can happen with any woman, or if Jamie is an outlier. (She kind of hopes it’ll happen with Jamie only, though she isn’t sure she’s ready to say why).

With an angling of her head in the direction of the front doors, gesturing for Dani to follow, Jamie leads the way from the sitting room into the main hall, Dani carefully cradling the poinsettia in her arms behind her. She’s slightly apprehensive, holding a plant in her hands that had taken so much work, scared that she’ll somehow kill it despite only having to do something as simple as place it on a table and leave it until the season is up and Jamie either replants them or disposes of them.

“Where do you think is good, then?” Jamie asks, rousing Dani, and she bites her lip in thought, looking across different tables and discarding them just as quickly. Jamie stands just off to one side, similarly scoping out potential places to put the plants.

“That depends,” Dani murmurs, shifting the plant in her hands and walking the length of the open area. “Do we want everyone to see it?”

“I should think so, after all my hard work,” Jamie teases, and Dani laughs, footsteps loud in the open air between them. It’s quiet outside of the sitting room, strangely so, no crackling fire or children’s laughter to accompany them, despite not being far, and Dani wonders why—only for a moment, though, before she’s looking outside, eyes lighting up at the sight of snow gently falling.

“Look, it’s snowing!” Dani gestures out the window, jostling the plant, and she quickly rights it in her hands, fingers tightening around the glazed pot. Jamie peers in the direction she’s pointing, brows lifting.

“That’s some excellent timing, snowing like this on Christmas Eve night,” she says, and then inclines her head in the direction of the door. “D’you want to go out there?” she asks, taking her free hand out of her pocket.

“No, I—I mean, yes, I kind of do, but I don’t have my coat.” Dani motions helplessly at her dark green sweater and pale jeans, her lack of boots, anything, really, that will prepare her for the snow and cold outside. Jamie, with her jacket and her boots, would fare much better out there. Dani’s things are still tucked away in one of her bags, and though the temperature had dipped weeks ago, she had still somehow forgotten to lay them out for herself.

“That’s all right, Poppins. You can borrow mine,” Jamie offers, placing the plant down on a nearby table and beginning to shrug her coat off her shoulders.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” she starts, but Jamie is already holding the coat out, lifting her eyebrows and shaking it when Dani doesn’t move. Jamie doesn’t budge an inch, even with Dani staying still, so with a resigned sigh that is mostly for show, she puts the plant down next to Jamie’s and turns, slipping her arms into the sleeves and allowing Jamie to lift it until it settles around her. She twists back around, Jamie’s hands sliding over her shoulders, until the other woman can draw the sides closed at the apex of Dani’s throat. It‘s already warm from Jamie having worn it, and smells lightly floral, a little earthy, the scent wrapping around Dani and going right to her head.

“There, see? Can’t have you catching a cold out there,” Jamie murmurs, brushing her hands over the collar until it lays flat against Dani’s shoulders. Dani stares at her, jaw a little slack, but Jamie doesn’t look up, focused on the coat resting properly on her.

“Thank you,” Dani says quietly, the gesture not lost on her, but after a moment, her brows draw together. “What about you? What if you get sick?”

“Me? I don’t get sick,” Jamie assures her. “ _Ever,_ ” she adds, finally looking up to give Dani a smirk. The way her lips tug up, a little lopsided, the mirth in her eyes, and Dani suddenly wants to kiss her, the urge rushing over her like a wave, Dani helpless in the pull of the tide. But then Jamie is stepping away far too soon, offering her hand out, before impatiently wiggling her fingers when Dani doesn’t take it immediately. “Come on, then. We have snow angels to make.”

A giggle bubbles up Dani’s throat, and she grasps Jamie’s hand in her own, thumb sweeping over Jamie’s knuckles as she follows her out the doors. Despite the snow falling, there’s no wind, flakes settling gently on the bare hedges and the stone structures in the yard, and Jamie leads her down onto the path, freshly shoveled by Owen from earlier that day. She almost slips in her excitement, a little yelp bursting out from her, and Jamie laughs, switching from holding her hand to a warm arm wrapped around Dani’s waist. Dani doesn’t hesitate to lean into it, resting some of her weight on Jamie, and if asked, to her last day, she’ll insist she was only doing it to keep her balance. Jamie’s hand tightens where it lies on her side, and heat radiates out from that point, burning all the way down to Dani’s toes.

It’s quiet out there in the snow, just as she thought it would be, the earth blanketed in soft white and bathed in the odd, warm yellow light cast from the lamps at the base of the stairs. Dani tilts her face up, eyes shutting briefly at the brush of snowflakes on her skin, exhaling into the still air around them. She has always loved snow, ever since she was a girl, something inherently calming and romantic about this sort of weather. She brings her chin back down when Jamie speaks, eyes fluttering back open to focus on the present, not on the gentle fall of snow outside schoolroom windows. When she looks at Jamie, the gardener looks away, down at their feet.

“Now, I’ve never made a snow angel, so you’ll have to show me a good place to do it,” Jamie is saying, and Dani puffs a laugh, breath curling out of her in wisps of mist. “Don’t laugh, Poppins. There wasn’t much snow angel makin’ in my sordid past, and I’m just now getting ‘round to the opportunity.” Dani lifts a hand to cover her mouth, but Jamie rolls her eyes all the same, not fooled for a second.

“Right here should do,” Dani says, stopping them a short way from the house. It’s a smooth, flat stretch of the yard, snow untouched by anything but more flakes and the lightest brush of wind atop it. Any place would do, really, so long it isn’t a steep hill or layered in gravel, but Jamie doesn’t have to know that. “Do you know how to make one?”

“Of course I know how to make one,” Jamie insists, snaking her arm back out from around Dani’s waist, who misses the contact immediately. “You just move your arms up and down. How hard can it be?” She mimes moving her arms around, almost flapping them, and Dani laughs again.

“Exactly like that,” Dani agrees, and without a care, she flops back into the snow, silence rushing up to meet her ears. It’s a shock of cold on the exposed skin of her neck and hands, but she doesn’t let it deter her, reveling in the soft embrace of ice crystals around her. Jamie had been right about the jacket; it’s keeping her perfectly protected from the cold, like being wrapped in a tight embrace. She dips her head until she can tuck her chin into the collar of the coat, and though they had mentioned making snow angels, she really is content to keep laying there like that, not moving. She can feel Jamie close beside her, and she wonders somewhat idly if Jamie is near enough to touch.

“You’re not moving your arms much over there,” Jamie pipes up from off to her right, and Dani breathes another laugh, brought back to the present. She begins waving her arms around until the “wings” are created, legs following the same motion, until it’s finished and she can sit up. Carefully, she hoists herself out of the shape she had created and stands, brushing the snow from her hands. Jamie stands up beside her, propping her hands on her hips, and shakes her head with pursed lips. The angels are so close they’re nearly holding hands, and though snow is falling consistently, Dani kind of hopes they’ll still be there in the morning.

“Mine looks a lot better than yours,” Jamie says finally, and Dani gives her a playful swat, Jamie grinning all the while. “Blimey, I’m cold. Let’s go in now, yeah?”

“Sure,” Dani agrees, turning and taking a step; however, before she can get much further, she feels a hand curl into the collar of the coat, beneath the gold fan of her hair. “What are you—” is all she gets out before ice cold snow is dumped down the back of her collar, coat and sweater and all, and she shrieks, flailing around madly and trying to get the snow back out. It’s beyond freezing, clumped into the ends of her hair, and by that time she already knows it’s too late to try and scoop the snow back into the yard, where it belongs. Jamie throws her head back and laughs, long and loud, a gust of condensation from her lips as she dodges Dani’s attempt to grab at her and runs back towards the house.

“You’re going to regret that!” Dani calls after her, breathless and cold and euphoric, unable to help the laugh that bubbles up and out of her, even with the chill stabbing cold fingers into her spine.

“Only if you can catch me!” Jamie yells back over her shoulder, and despite the snow and the ice, she’s quick on her feet—Dani, however, has the benefit of wanting revenge, and is following fast behind her, a snowball held in her hand. Jamie ducks behind the railing, around the corner of the stairs, hands up in surrender. “Take mercy on me, Poppins. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then what would you call that?” Dani demands, poised to throw the snow directly at Jamie’s stupid, charming face.

“Harmless fun?” Jamie tries, taking a step back as Dani advances on her. It’s only when Dani has her backed into a corner against the door that Dani pauses, arm cocked. If anyone asked her later why she had done it, she couldn’t have provided them an answer—she didn’t even think she had an answer. Perhaps some part of her knew it was there; perhaps it was a whim that she herself didn’t understand.

But Dani finds herself looking up, and up, catching sight of a small bundle of green and white looped around the base of the light. The snowball she had been so ready to loft Jamie’s way slips between her fingers, a cascade of crystals falling to the ground.

“Oh.” It’s the mistletoe Flora and Hannah had been holding earlier, and it seems they had found a place that neither of them had expected: fixed to the light over the front doors, where no-one would see it unless they happened to look up. It looks a little different than the one Flora had been holding, though she isn’t sure why—green and white, with a red ribbon, just as she had seen earlier. Dani thinks it’s a little careless to put it there, really; anyone could be caught under it. As she glances back down at Jamie, dark hair wet with snow and lips parted, she thinks, _maybe that was the point._

“Well,” Jamie says, voice suddenly much quieter, not carrying across the grounds as it once had, and Dani’s heart thumps heavily, almost painfully, breathlessly waiting for what Jamie is going to say. “You know what they say about not honoring traditions.”

A crackling fire lights beneath Dani’s breastbone, Jamie’s words stoking the flames, and she watches as Jamie steps forward, wiping the hand that had held the snow off on her pants. She looks determined, set, and Dani watches as her eyes go half-lidded, that same bruising black and shifting blue-green that had transfixed her earlier set upon her.

“What do they say?” Dani asks, almost unable to speak past the fluttering in her chest as Jamie stops inches away, head cocked in a way that made her feel as if she’s under a microscope. Perhaps she is.

“It’s bad luck,” Jamie says quietly, and she lifts a hand, now close enough to place it on Dani’s cheek. Her fingers are cool, softer than she expected, a pleasant contrast to the heat flaming in Dani’s cheeks. Her thumb sweeps over Dani’s jaw, nearly touching the corner of her mouth and she regards Dani with dark eyes, fingers curling gently around her ear. “You’ll tell me if it’s—”

That’s all she gets out before Dani is kissing her, lips pressing to Jamie’s mouth mid-sentence. Jamie makes a surprised noise somewhere in her throat, and then leans into it, the hand on Dani’s face skimming down her cheek to rest against the side of her neck. Dani clenches her hands into fists at her sides, afraid to touch, and she means to pull away in the next second, she really does—it was supposed to be quick, light, just a brush of lips to follow the rules of being caught under mistletoe—but then Jamie’s hand is curling around her waist, lips parting as her fingers slip beneath her own coat wrapped around Dani, and Dani knows with sudden clarity that there’s no chance she’s going to stop now.

She shifts into the kiss eagerly, hands circling Jamie’s hips, backing the other woman up as Jamie parts her lips with her tongue, pushing past Dani’s teeth and licking into her mouth. Dani hums, low and rough in her throat, the warm velvet slide of their open mouths moving together making her dizzy with want. Heat burns low in her belly, flames licking up her insides, and Dani exhales sharply when Jamie _grabs_ at her waist, pulling her in until they’re flush and Jamie’s back is right up against the door, Dani bracketing her in.

It’s **nothing** like kissing Edmund; that had been nice, she supposed, but that’s where it ended: nice. No heat, no passion, just the slightly chapped press of his lips against hers and the scrape of his stubble. It wasn’t unpleasant, per say, and he wasn’t a bad kisser, but it had been—empty. She had known without a doubt, in that moment, that there was nothing there. It had felt almost like a handshake, and the intimacy that followed was equally as impersonal.

But this—this is something else, Jamie’s lips and teeth and tongue sending fireworks off behind Dani’s closed eyes, sparks igniting when Jamie tugs at the plush curve of her lower lip with teeth and soothes it with the wet swipe of her mouth. Dani’s hands track up, up over the knobs of Jamie’s spine until she can wrap her arms around Jamie’s shoulders, unable to help herself as she slides one hand into the dark curls still pulled back with the bandana at the base of Jamie’s skull. Dani curls her fingers into auburn locks and Jamie keens, honest to God _keens,_ pushing forward and **up** until their hips line up, a thigh between Dani’s own, and Dani has to pull back, _too fast_ and **too much** slamming into her all at once, liquid gold pouring down beneath her navel as she presses her forehead to Jamie’s.

“I’m sorry, was that—is it—” Jamie starts, and Dani shakes her head quickly, eyes fluttering back open so she can meet Jamie’s worried gaze. Jamie’s hand had slipped from her waist, fingers lingering at where Dani’s sweater is tucked beneath the hem of her jeans, but her hand on Dani’s neck doesn’t move, thumb moving gently over her jaw and cheek.

“No, it was—it was perfect,” Dani rushes out, breathless, loosening her grip on Jamie’s hair and tucking her face into the curve of Jamie’s neck.

“Perfect, eh?” Jamie repeats, entirely too smug for her own good, but Dani doesn’t respond immediately, still too caught up in catching her breath. Jamie’s pulse is a rapid beat beneath her skin, and she presses her lips to that smooth, soft spot beneath Jamie’s jaw, overcome with the urge to do so, Jamie inhaling sharply and that hand that was merely resting on Dani’s side tightens, fingers bunching in the fabric of her sweater. Dani doesn’t move any further, keeping her face tucked there, and Jamie shifts, loosening her grip and using the hand on Dani’s neck to turn her face up towards her. “Everything all right there, Poppins?”

“Yeah,” Dani breaths, and she locks eyes with Jamie, who, even with the flush on her face, looks just this side of worried. Dani is sure her own face looks similar, though she does question if her lips are as dark and as red as Jamie’s, her mind conjuring images of the poinsettia she had been drawing curious fingers down not too long ago. It takes everything in her not to do the same to Jamie’s mouth. “I just, um…” she stops there, not wanting to continue, but if she isn’t honest now, when she feels comfortable and content and _safe_ in Jamie’s arms, when will she get the opportunity next? “I’ve never been with anyone besides Edmund. Not before, and not—not after.” She stops, wavers, continues. “Was that…was it okay for you?” She hadn’t started out the confession meaning to ask the question, but it comes out anyway, and her gaze skitters away, resting on the chain that sits around Jamie’s neck.

“‘ _Okay?’_ ” Jamie echoes, incredulous, and Dani feels that must have been a positive sign, at the very least. “More than okay, love. Great, even.” A grin threatens to break across Dani’s face, and she bites her lip, a relieved exhale that borders on a chuckle slipping from her. It had been some time she had last kissed someone, longer still since she had kissed someone she’d been interested in (had she ever?) and the knowledge it had been to Jamie’s liking warms her from the inside out. “Listen,” Jamie continues, tipping forward until she can rest her forehead against Dani’s. Dani’ eyelids flutter, her heart beginning to hammer a little less as she focuses on breathing in, and out. “We’ll take a break, all right? Go back inside, help Miles and Flora finish the tree, and decide where we want to go from there. Give us both some time to think after that, yeah?” Jamie suggests gently, running her thumb over Dani’s face, back and forth across her cheekbone. Dani nods. She thinks she already knows what she wants, molten lava still smoldering away in her chest, but she doesn’t want to rush things. A moment to think may do her some good.

“Yeah,” she agrees, and just then the door starts to crack open, Dani taking a step back and sucking in a deep breath, a much-needed effort to try and clear her head a little. Jamie tips her chin down, meeting Dani’s eye, and Dani returns the questioning tilt to her brows with a nod. The concern is touching, but Dani is the most okay she has been in…years. Too long, really.

“There you are!” Flora exclaims, peeking her hat-clad head out from around the door. “Owen is pouring drinks in the kitchen, and he wanted me to come get you.” She looks at them when they don’t move, heaving quite a loud sigh for a girl so small. “Come on, then!” she says, taking Jamie’s and Dani’s hands in each of her own and leading them inside. Jamie levels a grin at Dani, one eyebrow ticking up as Dani bites her lip and glances away. She’s going to have to try very hard not to keep her eyes on Jamie all night, with her mussed hair and pink mouth. Not now that she knows what Jamie’s curls feel like between her fingers and how soft her lips are.

“All right, all right, slow down,” Jamie laughs, letting herself be led into the warm, open foyer. Dani stops long enough to close the door behind them, a small gust of wind sending snow fluttering into the manor before it thuds shut.

“Why are you wearing Jamie’s coat?” Flora suddenly asks, and Dani looks helplessly at Jamie, who offers no help at all other than a privately pleased smile and raised brows. Luckily, Flora plows ahead on her own, not needing any input. “Is it because you were cold?”

“Yes, I was,” Dani answers, but she shrugs the coat off anyway, handing it back over to Jamie. Jamie lets their fingers brush, Dani’s twitching beneath hers, before pulling it back over her own shoulders. Flora commenting on it is fine, but she isn’t sure if the vague answer will work for Hannah and Owen. Those two are terribly smart.

“That’s a terrible place for the poinsettia, you know,” Flora points out rather suddenly, gently taking Jamie’s hand again and swinging it back and forth. Dani stifles a laugh behind her hand—she had somehow forgotten all about their original task of putting the plants out. It seems Jamie had, too, if the sheepish expression on her face is anything to go by. “Nobody will even see them. And they’re right next to each other!” she pushes on, picking one up and leading Jamie to the other end of the room. “There, see? Now there’s one on either side. Perfectly splendid.”

“’Perfectly splendid,’ indeed,” Dani allows, following the both of them as they cross into the kitchen. Owen is just popping open a bottle of wine for the adults, two glasses of eggnog already set on the table for the children. Miles waits patiently in front of his, though it looks like he’d snuck a sip when Hannah wasn’t looking, a small moustache painted above his lips.

“Ah, our brave decorators return,” Owen announces, sweeping his arms wide as Hannah sprinkles a dusting of cinnamon over the children’s mugs. Flora takes her seat beside Miles, lifting the glass carefully to take a sip. “I didn’t know you were going outside,” he carries on, starting to pour an even amount of crimson wine into each glass. “You must have had _snow_ much fun out there.”

“Blimey, Owen. Every joke is worse than the last,” Jamie deadpans, Hannah rolling her eyes skyward as Flora and Miles giggle. Flora has a white moustache matching Miles’s, now, braided hair in disarray from where she’d pulled her hat off.

“Oh, come on, then. Not even a laugh for the poor cook?” Owen begs, setting down the bottle of wine and sliding Jamie’s and Dani’s glasses towards them. Dani lifts hers and immediately takes a gulp, needing something to soothe her nerves. Even though Jamie had told them they could take a step back, reassess, she’s finding it quite difficult not to reach out and, at the very least, touch Jamie’s hand or face or hair. Dani thinks there’s no point in trying to take a step back, if the temptation tingling in her fingers is anything to go by, but—she doesn’t want Jamie to think she’s rushing through things.

“You got the children. Isn’t that enough?” Hannah asks, clinking her glass against Owen’s and taking a short sip.

“One laugh is never enough,” Owen adamantly expresses, taking a longer swing from his glass. He waggles his brows over the rim at Hannah, who sighs, sipping again from her cup. Dani hides her smile in another drink from her own. She watches as Jamie moves to the table, drawing her fingertips down the side of one of the polished, silver bells. Jamie glances up, watching Dani watch her, and crooks a grin, Dani’s ears tinting red as she peers back down into her glass with the utmost focus.

“Now then,” Hannah starts, motioning back out of the kitchen, “We left a few ornaments for the two of you to put up. Let’s go back out there, shall we? Christmas is tomorrow, and we don’t want to leave anything unfinished.”

The six of them walk back to the sitting room, Dani gasping as soon as she lays eyes on the tree. It’s lit up in beautiful hues of warm white, lights draped over the branches and handmade glass ornaments adorning the multitude of branches that bow out from the trunk. The icicles Hannah had been holding drape about the top, and a crowded bundle of circular baubles loop close to the base and the middle, that being as far up as Flora and Miles could reach without a stepstool or a lift from an adult. There are a few open spots at the top, clearly left bare for Dani and Jamie to decorate. The tinsel Dani and Jamie had so carefully tried to untangle is nowhere in sight, which Dani about expected, but there is instead a long string of silver ribbon wrapped all the way around the tree, curled in on itself right at the top. The threads sparkle in the uneven light from the fire, and with the addition of the small, pointed lights, it gives the tree a certain fuzzy, shifting glow that Dani can’t look away from. The whole thing is topped with a beautiful, ceramic star, painted in glitter and gold.

“It’s beautiful,” Dani breathes, lights and the glitter of ornaments from the fire twinkling in her gaze. The room is so warm, so bright, that despite herself, she feels the prickle behind her eyes that heralds the falling of tears. She refuses to them materialize much more than that, blinking as rapidly as she is able. Never had she seen a Christmas setting so beautiful.

“Yeah, it is,” Jamie agrees, but Dani finds that she’s looking at her, not at the tree. The lights that had been shining in Dani’s eyes twinkle just the same in Jamie’s, the wide pools of her pupils inky black in the low, dancing light of the room. Owen coughs somewhere to Dani’s right, a little obnoxiously, as if he had been in the middle of saying something and was quickly cut off, and Dani looks away, embarrassment rising as she finishes her wine off rather quickly. There’s a small box left open on the couch, four ornaments nestled inside ruby red felt, and she sets her glass down to pick one up, turning it until it catches the light. They’re all meant to be snowflakes, but each one of them is different in tiny, random ways. She wonders where they came from.

“We left two for each of you,” Flora informs Dani as she stops beside her, rocking back and forth on her heels. “You can put them wherever you like.”

“How sweet, thank you,” Dani gushes, turning to offer the remaining three ornaments out to Jamie. “Which ones do you want to put up?”

“You first,” Jamie responds, nudging the box back towards Dani. “I’ve put up many ornaments in my days at Bly. I’ll take the leftovers.”

The gesture is small, but sweet, and Dani smiles at Jamie before carefully taking out another of the snowflakes. The first one she’d chosen is delicate and thin, like a spiderweb, intricate lines of glass interlocking together, and the other is more of a star shape, tiny arrows down the spires. She hangs one towards the middle, on the side facing the fire, and the other as high up as she can reach, on a branch arcing towards the window. She looks at Flora, who nods her approval, before taking a seat next to Miles on the floor, pushing her feet out towards the heat.

“Your turn,” Dani says, holding the box out to Jamie. The gardener is careful when she takes the box, slipping it out of Dani’s hands and stepping to the tree as well. It only takes a moment, and the last of the ornaments are up, Jamie walking backwards until she’s standing next to Dani. It mirrors their pose from outside, Jamie’s lips pursed as she studies their handiwork.

“There we are,” Jamie says, nudging Dani’s shoulder with her own and crossing her arms. Her gaze is luminous, amused, and Dani welcomes the contact, shifting just close enough for their upper arms to brush. “Not too shabby, eh?”

“Not shabby at all,” Dani murmurs, her own smile growing to match Jamie’s, and it’s only because she’s watching her that she catches the flicker of Jamie’s gaze down, towards her mouth. Dani sucks in a breath, running her tongue over her lower lip to wet it, and Jamie’s eyes go half-lidded, Dani mesmerized by the way her pupils eat up all the color of her eyes. Abruptly, she fiercely wishes she hadn’t backed away outside, that she had pushed so far into Jamie that she wouldn’t have known where Jamie began, and she ended. Though she’s only had the one glass of wine, Dani is already starting to feel very warm, and a little fuzzy, but not so much that she feels removed from the present. No, she is all too aware of the heat crackling between Jamie and herself.

“Well,” Hannah interrupts, clasping her hands together, and Dani pulls her eyes from Jamie’s face to look in the housekeeper’s direction as she crosses the room, embarrassed that she had forgotten her surroundings so easily. Hannah isn’t looking at her, nor is she looking at Jamie, but Dani can’t imagine she had missed the change in energy. “I think Flora and Miles have the right idea, sitting in front of the fire like this. Nothing quite like it to keep away the cold,” she continues, collecting the back of her skirt beneath her thighs as she sits on one of the couches.

“Well, don’t mind if I do,” Owen says, not waiting for the invitation before he perches beside her, arm immediately going to the back of the couch. Hannah tuts, though it isn’t very convincing with the tiny, enamored smile she’s wearing. “We senior citizens need to warm our bones every now and then.”

“Senior citizens?” Flora asks, looking over her shoulder as Hannah mouthed the word, “Careful,” directly at Owen.

“You’re not _that_ old,” Miles tacks on, Dani carefully stepping over the children’s splayed legs to sit on the other settee. Owen and Hannah are rather cozy on the first one, leaving only one place for Jamie to sit—right beside Dani, which she does with no hesitation.

“Owen might be,” Jamie replies. “Never sure with that one.”

“I’ll have you know that I am at the peak of my life,” Owen sniffs. “A wine that grows finer with age, if you will.”

“Then that must make me the queen of England,” Jamie fires back, rolling her eyes to meet Dani’s. The banter is nice, barbed without being truly mean, a comfortable routine that Dani knows Owen and Jamie must have been engaging in for years. She returns the humor in Jamie’s look, the gardener perking up somewhat with Dani’s willingness to be involved.

“You, the queen of England? My, we’d be in for quite the ruling,” Hannah murmurs, running a hand over the back of her head.

“England wishes it could land a queen as fine as me,” Jamie insists, stretching her legs out between the children to cross her feet at the ankle. The movement pulls her slightly further away from Dani, and with the fire beginning to burn lower, a chill dances up Dani’s spine, goosebumps erupting along her arms. She crosses them and rubs at her shoulders, the temperature change catching her by surprise; though she’d been wearing a coat outside, the snow being dumped down her back had ruined any chance of warming up without a strong, roaring fire to sit beside. “Are you cold?” Jamie suddenly mutters, only to her, and Dani startles, not expecting the change in Jamie’s attention. Owen and Hannah are still speaking with the children in the background, and Dani deliberates only briefly before nodding.

“Yeah, someone put snow down the back of my coat,” she intones, eyebrows up, and Jamie doesn’t even have the good grace to look apologetic. One side of her mouth twitches; her expression remains unchanging otherwise.

“That wasn’t very nice of them,” Jamie replies, tilting her head until it rests on the back of the couch. “But I think I know a way to make up for it.”

“Oh?” Dani asks, and Jamie motions with her arm, lifting it until it rests on the back of the couch and she can beckon Dani closer. Dani’s gaze flicks to the space that suddenly opens, then to Jamie’s face, questioning.

“Come on, then. I don’t want you freezing over there all night,” Jamie insists, and Dani shuffles closer, only pausing for a moment before she shifts in close enough to rest her head on Jamie’s shoulder. Her left leg pushes up against Jamie’s right, thigh to thigh, and Jamie wraps her arm around Dani’s shoulder, hand resting on her bicep. She had been right—Dani is suddenly warmer, Jamie a furnace despite their time outside, and with the change in position, Flora leans back, beaming up at her as she rests her back against Dani’s shins. It’s unexpectedly sweet, nearly stealing Dani’s breath away, and she places a hand on Flora’s head, gently smoothing her hair down. “Better?”

“Much,” Dani agrees, nuzzling in closer until her nose is tucked up against the thin skin stretched over Jamie’s clavicle. Jamie’s temple comes down to rest on the top of Dani’s head, a gentle pressure she fins quite comforting, and against her will, she feels her eyes sliding shut, perfectly comfortable exactly where she is.

***

“—iss Clayton? Are you awake?” someone is saying, and Dani jerks up, jostling Jamie’s arm where it’s still across her shoulders. She hadn’t realized she had fallen asleep, a little disoriented with the coals burned black and Hannah setting about unplugging the lights to the tree in the corner.

“Easy,” Jamie hums, running her hand over Dani’s upper arm. The touch is soothing enough to make Dani relax immediately, and she sinks back against the couch, letting her head dip to Jamie’s shoulder again.

“See, I told you she was awake,” Flora says, retracting her hand from where she had been pushing at Dani’s shoulder.

“She wasn’t when you started,” Miles insists, Dani noticing that one side of his hair is sticking up. He had definitely been asleep too, then.

“Isn’t it **your** bedtime?” Dani asks, clearing her throat to try to rid it of some of the rasp. She isn’t sure how long she’d been asleep, but it was enough for her to sound like she hadn’t awoken until the next morning.

“They wanted to say goodnight before we brought them upstairs,” Hannah informs her, coming around the side of the couch. Dani’s expression softens, and she smiles at the both of them, touched by their thoughtfulness.

“Goodnight, Miss Clayton,” Miles beams, and Dani leans forward until she can give him a kiss on the head, doing the same for Flora when she repeats the sentiment.

“All right, up we go. Time for bed,” Owen says, placing a hand on Miles’s back.

“Do we have to?” Miles complains, despite just wishing Dani a good night. Immediately after, he unsuccessfully tries to tamp down a yawn, and Flora is nearly swaying on her feet, eyelids heavy.

“Ah, ah—you’ve been up far too late already, and Santa Clause won’t show up until you’re tucked in your beds,” Hannah admonishes, holding out a hand for Miles to take. “Come on. Off to bed.”

“Fine,” Miles sighs, taking her hand in his own. Owen is already bending down and lifting Flora into his arms, the girl not offering a single protest as she settles against his chest. He tips his chin down in a nod towards Dani, who returns it as the pair makes their way out of the room, Hannah’s boots clicking across the tile before it’s quiet again, silence settling heavy and opaque as a blanket.

“Come on, Poppins. You too,” Jamie says, nudging Dani back up until she can stand. She rotates the shoulder Dani had been resting on, running a hand over the joint before offering it out to Dani. “You’ll never hear the end of it if Miles and Flora catch you sleeping on the couch tomorrow morning.”

“Mm, yeah,” Dani agrees, taking the offered hand and letting Jamie pull her up. They make their way to the upstairs portion of the house, the hallways now almost black save for the lights shining out from the kids’ rooms. Those click off soon enough, Hannah and Owen shutting the doors behind them and giving Dani and Jamie each a wave before they turn back down the hall to their own quarters.

They reach Dani’s room, and she turns, still holding Jamie’s hand in her own. She shifts her weight, a little nervous, and a whole lot unsure how to proceed.

“I had a nice time tonight,” she starts with, catching Jamie’s eye best she can, and Jamie’s expression softens, nothing but a vague imprint in the darkness.

“Me too,” she says, thumb rubbing over Dani’s knuckles. Dani opens her mouth to say something else, words bunching up behind her teeth and waiting to spill forth, but just then, a light turns on at the end of the hallway, throwing enough light to catch on something above Dani’s head. It’s like the stars are aligning, planets coming into perfect rotation of each other; the light comes on, bathing Dani and Jamie in a yellow glow, bright plastic glints above her, and they both look up, a little gasp leaving Dani.

Before she can get a word out, Jamie is already speaking.

“Hannah,” Jamie mutters, almost beneath her breath, but not low enough that Dani doesn’t catch it. “I swear I didn’t hang that one,” Jamie immediately continues, squinting up at the gaudy plastic plant. She reaches up, poking at the offending bundle of leaves until it sways gently back and forth, and then as if a lightbulb pops on, she looks at Dani, horrified.

“Didn’t hang…” Dani trailed off, cogs turning in her brain, before lightning strikes. “I _knew_ the mistletoe outside looked different!” she exclaims, dropping her gaze to catch Jamie’s, who is looking like she’d like to bolt. “So, you do grow mistletoe on the grounds.”

“Easy, Dani. Can you blame me?” Jamie begins, scrubbing a hand over the back of her head. “I wasn’t sure how you were feeling about it. You’re awful hard to read, sometimes. Far away in your own head.” She lifts her shoulders in a jerky shrug, an uneasy gesture Dani has never seen. Jamie is _never_ uneasy, projecting constant comfort in her own skin. “Figured Christmas was coming, couldn’t hurt to try.”

Dani can’t argue against that; since coming to Bly Manor, even with the coaxing of the inhabitants, she had still been spending far too much time lost in her thoughts. It was hard not to be, with the events that had occurred before she had left everything behind, but she hadn’t known Jamie had been paying such close attention, or that she had been trying to draw Dani out of her shell since the moment they had met and started something of a friendship. Recently, certainly; Jamie had been upping her game, with the tinsel and the kitchen and the kiss outside, but before that? Dani had kept her at arms’ length just as much as she had everyone else.

Realization washes over Dani, and she suddenly feels very brave, drawing Jamie’s hand towards her until her forearm brushes against Dani’s hip. The light at the end of the hall clicks off, bathing them in darkness, but Dani can still see the glitter of Jamie’s eyes in the gloom, fixed on her own.

It makes her want to be reckless, to throw caution to the wind and go for what she wants. Knowing that Jamie had wanted her enough to hang mistletoe in the **hopes** she could get Dani beneath it, that there was a chance Dani would have said no, and that she still went ahead with it anyway, never mind her own feelings…well. That changes a few things.

Dani loops her fingers loosely around Jamie’s other wrist, drawing it forward until Jamie’s hand is resting against the door, by Dani’s hip, effectively bracketing Dani in—a perfect reflection of their time in the kitchen. It’s still rather hard to see, the only light cast over them from the reflection of the moon and the stars on the snow outside, but Dani can sense Jamie is close, the fan of her breath over Dani’s face cool and sweet, pleasantly tinged with the wine they had both drank. Jamie is close enough that her eyes are beginning to blur together, huge and black against her pale skin.

“Dani,” Jamie says, though she stops there—Dani can’t tell if it’s a beginning to something, a warning, an utterance she hadn’t even known she was emitting, or something else entirely; all she knows is that it hangs in the air between them, that it races up her spine and over her head in a tingling wave.

Her next words came to her with no trouble at all, as if they had been in her mind all along, since the moment Jamie had first grabbed her hand and pulled her outside.

She runs her tongue over her lips, fruitlessly trying to wet them, before she finally speaks, low and rough, “You know what they say about not honoring traditions.”

A moment of absolute silence, and then— “What do they say?” Jamie parrots back at her, stepping closer still until her thighs brush Dani’s, and Dani sucks in a breath, feeling her eyelids droop at the rapid disappearance of the scant inches remaining between them. She doesn’t know how much longer she can wait, Jamie following right behind her.

“It’s bad luck,” Dani murmurs, skimming her fingers up Jamie’s forearm, her elbow, until she can grip her shoulder, fabric bunching in her fist.

Dani doesn’t know who moves first—she’d like to think it was her, though in the end, she can’t really be sure—and then her mouth is on Jamie’s, hot and slick as she immediately parts her lips to welcome the push of Jamie’s tongue. Her free hand goes to Jamie’s waist, curling around the other woman’s hip beneath her coat, and Jamie steps in until they’re flush, one hand tugging Dani against her by the small of her back as the other takes the same place it had earlier, cool fingers curling around the back of her neck. Dani feels more than hears the gratified hum Jamie emits, one long, low note pushed past her teeth by the warm press of Jamie’s lips, and when she tangles her hand back up into Jamie’s hair, that hum turns higher, jagged, Jamie’s nails biting into Dani’s skin through her sweater.

Unbidden, Dani steps to the outside of Jamie’s thigh, and Jamie’s hand slides around from her back, down her flank, to brace on the underside of Dani’s leg, hitching it up and on her hip until she is slotted neatly between Dani’s legs, her fingers a tight, hot bracket on Dani’s femur. Both of Dani’s arms slip around Jamie’s shoulders, hands twisting into well-worn fabric, and Jamie pulls away only long enough to scrape her teeth over Dani’s jaw and then down, a line of fire following the brush of her lips on the tendon standing out against Dani’s neck. Jamie presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the base, just above the hollow created by the joining of her clavicles and her throat, and Dani shudders, a whole-body jerk, her nails nearly ripping right through Jamie’s jacket as she bites back a truly embarrassingly loud moan. Instead, it comes out as more of a whine, Dani knocking her head back against the door as she worries her lower lip with her teeth. Jamie twists her hips, a slow grind into Dani’s own, and this time she does make a noise, frantic and barely bitten-off.

“Tell me you’re sure,” Jamie says against her skin, between the warm press of her lips over and over again, as if it’s impossible for her to break away long enough to speak an entire sentence. Dani understands the feeling; she’s far drunker on Jamie than she had ever been on the wine, blood racing beneath her skin and thoughts pounding against the front of her brain, barely waiting for her mouth to catch up before they rush out of her.

“I’m sure, I’m sure,” Dani breathes, pulling Jamie’s face back up to hers and nipping at her upper lip with her teeth. Jamie hisses, far from displeased at the sting, and Dani fumbles behind them, turning the doorknob a few times before it finally opens and they stumble in together, her hands linking behind Jamie’s neck as the other woman braces her, hand at her lower back to keep Dani close by without them both going down.

“Easy,” Jamie laughs, low and husky and a touch breathless, kicking the door shut behind them. “Wouldn’t want one of us getting hurt before I’ve had my way with you.” Even with the cloud of arousal fogged over her mind, Dani is still able to lift her brows, letting Jamie carefully walk her back towards her bed.

“You sound like you have some plans,” she says, aiming for brevity and instead coming out frail, breathy. She lets herself fall back onto the mattress and shifts up to make some space, Jamie shedding her coat and tossing it towards the corner before she joins Dani, taking a seat beside Dani and placing a hand on either side of her head. Her pupils are blown wide, black as the night, and her mouth is slick and pink, but her expression is serious, eyes on Dani’s own. Dani swallows thickly, and only then does Jamie’s gaze drop, tracking the flex of Dani’s throat.

“I’ve been dreaming of this for weeks, Dani,” she admits quietly, and Dani warms straight down to her toes, satisfaction sizzling over her vertebrae. “Dreamin’ that you’d say yes, that I’d have the chance to make good on some of the things I’d been thinking of,” she presses on, shifting her weight until she can stroke her thumb over the soft skin beneath Dani’s eye, her words stealing Dani’s breath right from her lungs. Dani lifts her hand, fingers curling around Jamie’s head to pull her down, down, until she can speak the words against her mouth, feather soft.

“Thank you,” she breathes, pressing a kiss to Jamie’s mouth, and then another, and another, unable to help herself as Jamie shifts closer, fitting herself between the apex of Dani’s thighs and welcoming the eager push of Dani’s mouth. Dani’s back bows, moving closer still, enjoying the way Jamie presses her down into the bed with nothing more than her weight, her hands trailing down Dani’s shoulders, her waist, plucking at her sweater until she can slip cool fingers beneath the edge.

Dani jumps at the first brush, Jamie’s fingertips still cold, and Jamie hesitates, her thumb stilling where it rests beside Dani’s navel.

“All right?” she asks, and Dani nods, shivering at the tickle of Jamie’s breath on heated skin.

“Yeah, you’re just—a little cold,” Dani replies, and Jamie grins, skimming kisses over Dani’s pulse, the hollow of her throat, her jaw. Dani’s fingers clench where they rest on Jamie’s side, her heart fluttering at the shift and dip of corded muscle as Jamie chuckles lowly into the skin of her neck.

“You’ll have to warm me up, then,” she says, and though she’d laughed, Dani knows it’s not a joke; she can feel a blush rise just at the thought of what may be on Jamie’s mind, ideas circling and melting together as Jamie nips at her throat, her clavicle, teeth sharp and tongue warm as it soothes the sting.

“I think—I think I can manage that,” Dani breathes, voice dropping in the middle, and Jamie’s hand resumes its path up, trailing over Dani’s waist and touching at each rib. Dani’s sure she’s going to ignite into flames right there, every nerve alight as Jamie cups her breast, thumb and forefinger finding sensitive flesh easily through fabric. Dani’s head thumps back, a gasp that toes the line of a moan wrenched from her, and Jamie takes the opportunity to ruck her sweater up the rest of the way, fabric bunching around Dani’s shoulders as her mouth replaces her hand, searing Dani’s skin right through her brassiere. Her other hand comes up, fingers rolling, lightly pinching, and Dani knots a hand into Jamie’s hair, tightening until she’s certain she’s going to rip Jamie’s hair right out. Her thighs come together, trapping Jamie against her, and Jamie’s right hand comes around her, splayed on Dani’s mid-back to hold her there, spine arched up and away from the bed.

Almost without Dani noticing, Jamie’s fingers pluck at the band of her bra, fabric loosening around her chest as Jamie unhooks it, and she pulls away only long enough for Dani to shed it, gaze heavy as it rests on Dani’s bare chest. Dani’s arms twitch, tempted to fold over her exposed skin, but as if she can sense it, Jamie places her fingers on Dani’s sternum, peering at her from beneath her eyelids.

“You’re beautiful.” Dani can feel the prickle behind her eyes again, and she has no idea what she must look like, shirtless and close to crying, but Jamie returns the watery smile, teeth flashing in silvered moonlight. She swoops back in, imprinting a hot kiss upon Dani’s lips, and Dani braces her forearm on the back of her neck, keeping her there as she licks into Jamie’s mouth, the line of her teeth and the taste of her lips rapidly becoming familiar. Jamie’s hand splays over Dani’s skin, an iron-hot brand between her breasts, grounding her as the other skims up beneath her skirt, fingers gripping at the meat of Dani’s thigh. Dani lets her legs fall open, answering the question Jamie never asked, and then Jamie’s hand is _there,_ blazing hot through the thin fabric of her underwear.

Dani’s breath **whooshes** out of her, mouth wrenching away from Jamie’s as the other woman cups her, hand still as she presses kisses to Dani’s jaw, her neck, soft and soothing. Dani tips her head back, hair fanned out on the pillow beneath her, and her hands tighten in the collar of Jamie’s jacket, knuckles white and bloodless as Jamie draws her undergarments to the side, fingers drawing a soft path up slick heat and then back down, steady as the tide. Dani is sure she’s drowning, chest heaving as she draws shaky breaths in and out, and though it’s cool in her room, chilled from the moon and the snow, sweat beads along her hairline, hips jerking when Jamie presses her thumb against her.

Dan’s brain short circuits, synapses firing into empty space, and her thighs try to clamp together, to draw Jamie in and push her away all at once, but Jamie is right there, still kneeling between her legs, mouth hot on the column of Dani’s throat. Dani thinks of flowers blooming, petals bursting with lush color, of thunder rumbling across the dark, star-dotted sky, clouds heavy and flush with rain, the drag of Jamie’s thumb a lightning strike as she curls two fingers into wet heat. Dani shifts, hips stuttering up to match the pace Jamie sets, and Jamie exhales sharply against Dani’s neck, her heart an erratic drum beat against Dani’s own chest. Dani gulps a breath in, bites at her lip, and shoves her hands beneath Jamie’s shirt, pulling the fabric out, twisting it between her fingers, desperate to feel Jamie’s skin against her own; she needs more than Jamie’s mouth, her hand, her fingers, the only two points of contact currently shared between them.

“You’re—you’re wearing too many clothes,” Dani gasps. Jamie is moving almost before she’s finished speaking, drawing her hand away so she can shed her shirt and her trousers, and Dani stares, mesmerized. Jamie’s movements are sure, unhurried, and when she kneels between Dani’s legs again, Dani is starstruck, trying to drink everything in at once: the rise and fall of Jamie’s breasts as she breathes, the slight jut of her ribcage, the freckles that dot her chest and shoulders and stomach. She can feel time slowing down around them, stretching, lengthening, and despite the heat simmering between them, she drinks this moment in, suddenly not needing to rush.

“You can touch me,” Jamie says quietly, curls in a messy halo around her head, and Dani reaches out, fingers curling towards her palm briefly before she’s cupping Jamie’s bare breast, testing the warm weight of her in her hand. Jamie’s breath hitches, long lashes fluttering, and Dani studies the minute changes in her expression, from the line between her brows to the muscle that ticks in her jaw as she drags her thumb over Jamie’s nipple, curious. Jamie shudders, goosebumps pricking along her forearms, and Dani sets her hand on the back of Jamie’s neck, drawing her down for a languid, open-mouthed kiss, relishing in the warmth of Jamie’s lips and tongue. Jamie exhales against her, hands lifting to cup Dani’s face, and then she draws away, feathering a kiss over Dani’s nose, Dani scrunching it in response. She watches a smile ghost over Jamie’s mouth, and then Jamie is kissing down, mouth pressing to Dani’s neck, to the thin skin between her breasts, trailing down her abdomen. Jamie backs up enough to pull Dani’s skirt and underwear down and toss them away, Dani not bothering to check where they land. Dani’s hand slides into Jamie’s hair, pulse hammering as the other woman settles back in, shoulders underneath Dani’s thighs.

“Oh, you don’t—you don’t have to—”

“Trust me, Dani.” Jamie’s eyes are large and steady and dark from where she lays between Dani’s legs, Dani just barely able to catch the uneven crook of her grin. “I want to.” That’s all the convincing Dani needs, and Jamie begins kissing a line of fire up Dani’s inner thigh, slow and sure. Dani whimpers, tiptoeing on the knife’s edge of anticipation, and then Jamie drags her tongue over her, one long stripe, and Dani _falls._

Helplessly, she thinks of the past, of the last time she had been at the receiving end of this—Edmund had tried, certainly, enthusiastic and completely clueless, but he had never—she can’t even finish the thought, the memories plucked right out of her head by the swirl and stroke of Jamie’s tongue. Jamie listens, _responds_ to what Dani’s body is saying; she curls the tip of her tongue just **so** when Dani’s fingers tighten in her hair, laps at her when Dani’s breath hiccups and she has to clench her eyes shut against the sight and sound and _feeling_ of Jamie, the woman assaulting all of her senses at once. Her fingers twist, pulling at Jamie’s hair, and Jamie hums high in her throat, the same whine that had gone straight to Dani’s head every time before, and Dani starts to match the press and slide of Jamie’s mouth with her hips, pressure building.

It hits her without preamble, takes her almost completely by surprise; she’s lost in the drag and flick of Jamie’s tongue, the press of her lips as she sucks, and she suddenly ignites, nails carving into Jamie’s shoulder and fingers helplessly grappling at the back of her head. An earthquake shatters through her, magma spilling down her chest, her abdomen, down beneath her navel, a heat so intense and all-encompassing she’s sure she’s going to be left nothing but a pile of smoke and ash in the aftermath—and Jamie stays with her all the while, coaxing out the last aftershocks with the gentle lave of her tongue, her hand on Dani’s hip, thumb stroking at the bony crest of her pelvis. Finally, finally, she pulls away, and Dani looks down, tracking the moisture on Jamie’s mouth, her chin, and recognizing it as hers, as coming from Jamie’s single-minded focus on her.

The temptation from earlier circles back around, almost lazily, and Dani draws the pad of her thumb over Jamie’s lower lip, red and plush as the poinsettia they had not so carefully arranged downstairs. Jamie doesn’t move, her expression quietly pleased.

“All right there?” Jamie asks, finally grinning like she’d caught the canary, and Dani laughs as much as she’s able, barely capable of catching her breath.

“Yeah,” Dani says. She only pauses a moment to catch her breath before she’s drawing Jamie up with the hand still on the back of her head, pulling her into a hot, messy kiss, licking past her lips and tasting herself on Jamie’s tongue. Jamie makes a noise, guttural and low in her chest, and Dani slides her thigh between Jamie’s legs, grappling at her hips until she can roll Jamie onto her back. She presses a kiss to the hollow of Jamie’s throat, and then trails down, brushing her lips over every freckle on her shoulders, her breasts, until she’s made her way to the soft skin just above Jamie’s underwear.

“Dani, you—are you—”

“Shh,” Dani murmurs, rubbing Jamie’s hips with her thumbs. Jamie shuts her mouth with an audible _click,_ swallows thickly around what Dani guesses must be a thousand words all battling to rush out at once, and Dani sits up only enough to draw her underwear down and drop it over the edge of the mattress, laying back down between Jamie’s legs when she’s done. Jamie, eyes unfocused and lip between her teeth, strokes a hand through Dani’s hair, around her ear, as if she’s not sure where to put it. She finally decides on the side of Dani’s neck, thumb on Dani’s pulse. Dani watches, waiting, until she’s sure Jamie is sure, and then her gaze tracks down.

It’s a little overwhelming at first, having only the faintest idea of what she’s doing, but she knows what she likes from Jamie, and Jamie is nothing if not responsive—when Dani experimentally licks at her, Jamie jerks, fingers tightening into Dani’s hair, and when she sucks, Jamie inhales sharply on what sounds suspiciously like Dani’s own name, a prayer or a curse or, perhaps, both. Dani splays her fingers on Jamie’s flank, a flutter of muscle beneath her hand, and grips Jamie’s thigh with the other, coaxing her legs further apart as she drags the flat of her tongue over her, again and again, until Jamie is shaking with it, as if anything would send her falling to pieces against Dani’s mouth.

Dani moves the hand on Jamie’s thigh, drawing a finger down slick skin before she’s pressing in, and a moan punches out of Jamie, her chin tipping back, corded muscle wound tight enough to snap in her neck. She curls her finger, presses into ridged flesh on the push, and slides another finger in, watching as Jamie’s head rolls, eyes half-lidded as she meets Dani’s gaze, lips parted upon every breath. Her gaze is unfocused, wide and dark and desperate, Dani can feel her tightening around her, the rise and fall of her hips sharp, jerky, and she purses her lips, licks at sensitive flesh, draws her fingers towards the press of her mouth until Jamie is coming apart, fingers wound into Dani’s hair and the other braced over where Dani’s still lays on her side, hands tangled together. Her whole body stiffens, a bow strung impossibly tight, and then relaxes, boneless and languid as Dani pulls away and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

“You’re something else, you know,” Jamie says, breathless, and Dani can’t help the giggle that rises up, spilling from her as she curls up besides Jamie, pressing a kiss to her neck, her jaw, and finally to her lips, relishing in the lazy tangle of Jamie’s tongue with her own. She’s sure Jamie can taste herself on Dani’s tongue, and it sends a little thrill through her.

“Mm,” Dani hums when she pulls away, drawing her fingers through Jamie’s hair. “Agreed.” Jamie huffs a laugh, and then draws her close, looping an arm around Dani’s waist until Dani tucks up against her, Jamie’s head beneath Dani’s chin. Dani sighs, deep and drowsy, and Jamie pulls the blanket up and over them, tangling her legs with Dani’s own. She skims her lips over Dani’s chest, right over her heart, and Dani inhales a little shakily, arms tightening around her. “I never changed my mind, you know,” she admits suddenly, quietly, and Jamie shifts to look at her. “About us. Part of me always knew, I think, that I wanted there to be something,” she continues, eyes on Jamie’s chin. She’s not sure if she can meet her eye, but Jamie seems to understand, remaining silent as she runs her thumb over the base of Dani’s spine. “It’s just—I wasn’t sure, with you. If that’s how you were with everyone, if you were just being friendly.” She laughs, a little harshly. “I didn’t want to ruin anything. Not when it had been so long since I’d had a friend.”

“I get it,” Jamie soothes, and she tilts Dani’s face towards hers to brush their lips together, meeting her eye carefully. Dani’s gaze wants to pull away, skitter into the darkness around them, but she doesn’t let it. “I felt much the same, trying to coax you out of your shell in those first days. You’d just lost your fiancée, Dani. You’d run away from home soon after. You needed a friend, more than anything, and I wasn’t going to put you in a position where I’d be taking advantage.” Jamie’s hand skims up to the spot between Dani’s shoulder blades and rests there, warm and solid. “I’d had a feeling, for a while, that you were interested. I wasn’t sure if you were ready to admit it.” She pauses. “Had to get a little creative, but—it worked out in the end, didn’t it? Got that question answered for the both of us.”

“Yeah,” Dani replies, drawing a deep breath in, and out, reveling in the feeling of Jamie in her bed, her arms around her, the warmth shared between them. “Thank you, for that—for everything you did.”

“Anytime, Poppins,” Jamie murmurs, and leans up to press a kiss to Dani’s forehead, Dani’s eyes slipping shut. “Get some sleep, yeah? We’re gettin’ up at the crack of dawn tomorrow.” She tucks her head back underneath Dani’s chin, and Dani sighs, content. She hadn’t pegged Jamie for a little spoon, but—she finds she quite likes it.

“Goodnight, Jamie.”

“Goodnight.”

***

Dani wakes slowly, a little groggy and a lot confused, before she’s catching up to what had happened the night before—she relaxes immediately, limbs going loose around Jamie. Jamie had been right, it seemed; the sun was barely over the horizon, dim winter light filtering through the window, but Dani can’t find it in her to mind. Not when she’s still got Jamie in her bed, the woman’s back to her front, a solid line of heat keeping Dani pleasantly warm beneath her covers. She presses a kiss to the back of Jamie’s neck, thinks about placing her lips over knotted scar tissue, but then Jamie is shifting, hips pressing back into Dani’s, and Dani’s fingers curl against Jamie’s hip, nails scratching lightly over taut muscle.

“Mm,” Jamie hums, tilts her head, and Dani continues the slow trail she had started, pressing her lips to the side of Jamie’s neck, to the pulse point beneath her ear. Jamie’s hand comes to cover her own, fingertips over her knuckles, and when she rocks her hips back again, intent clear, Dani **bites** at her neck, gratifying in the dark noise Jamie makes, and lets Jamie draw Dani’s hand down until she can cup her, already finding her warm and wet. Dani returns to roll of her hips this time with her own, presses two fingers in, and she can feel Jamie clench her teeth on another moan, breath hissing out of her when Dani uses the heel of her hand to grind against her. Dani keeps her there, pressed back against her hips, rocking into her with every push of her fingers in, and when she adds a third, nipping at the top of Jamie’s spine, Jamie is shuddering apart after only a few strokes, hand clamping around Dani’s wrist as she rides it out.

Dani draws her hand away, and then Jamie is turning in her arms, hand working into Dani’s hair to pull her into a messy kiss, lips and tongue hot against Dani’s. Dani makes a noise, just a little one in her throat, and Jamie is rolling her onto her back, sliding up until her thigh is solid and warm against her, hands on either side of Dani’s head. She presses up with her leg, into Dani, and Dani’s head falls back against the pillows, hands going to Jamie’s hips to guide her to the rhythm Dani needs. Dani matches the roll of her hips, every grind of her thigh into her, and Jamie leans down, peppers kisses over Dani’s chest, her shoulders, presses her lips to the hollow above her sternum, and Dani squeezes her eyes shut, breaths coming faster. Jamie licks a stripe up the side of her neck, tucks her earlobe between her teeth, and then _finally_ presses her mouth to Dani’s again, nipping at her lips until she can slide her tongue past Dani’s teeth. Dani whimpers, fingers scrabbling for purchase, and Jamie keeps providing constant pressure, the perfect solid, warm friction of her thigh flexing against her, and it’s over, just like that, a great wave rushing over Dani and tingling all the way out to her fingertips. She breathes in and out harshly, Jamie rocking gently against her through it all.

Once she stops shuddering, muscles less twitchy, Jamie shifts back, nuzzling at Dani’s jaw before she leans up, hands still braced beside Dani’s head as she grins down at her.

“Hi,” Dani says, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair back behind of hair behind Jamie’s ear as she tries to calm the heave of her chest. Not the way she usually wakes up, but—she certainly isn’t complaining.

“Morning,” Jamie responds, lips crooked in a grin, and she kisses Dani softly, just a brush of her lips. It doesn’t stay that way for long, Dani parting Jamie’s lips with her tongue, and she draws Jamie down, arching up into the warm line of Jamie’s chest.

Just then, a knock, and through the door— “Miss Clayton, wake up! It’s Christmas!” Miles. Of course.

“I’m going to kill him,” Jamie mutters, and Dani chuckles, a little raspy.

“Hey. He could have showed up a lot earlier,” Dani points out, and Jamie grunts, rolling onto her back and working a hand into her hair. She looks back at Dani, and her expression softens, a private smile playing around her mouth. Dani returns it in kind, reaching out to swipe her thumb over Jamie’s cheek.

“Guess so,” Jamie admits, as if she doesn’t want to admit Dani is right. Dani bites her lip against another smile. “All right, then. Up and at ‘em, Poppins. We’ve got gifts to pass out.”

Dani stands, stretches, and rifles through her dresser until she can change into something befitting the holiday: dark skirt, bright red sweater. She glances back at Jamie, who is sitting up, arching her back into a yawn and a truly _obscene_ stretch. Dani’s mouth goes a little dry, and when she finally drags her eyes up, Jamie is looking at her, smug and fully aware.

“Keep that up, and we’re never going to get downstairs,” Dani admonishes, and Jamie grins wide, bright and with all her teeth.

“That’s the plan,” she says, but then someone **else** knocks, and Dani jumps.

“Miss Clayton, come on!” This time it’s Flora, and Dani listens for the sound of running feet—after a few seconds, much longer than Dani thought she would have waited, Flora finally moves away, taking off in the direction of the stairs.

“Could I maybe borrow something to wear?” Jamie asks, finally slinking out of bed. “I’ll never hear the end of it if I go downstairs in the same clothes I was wearing.”

“They’re going to say something anyway when they see your truck outside,” Dani points out, but she pulls out a set of clothes she hopes are understated enough for Jamie’s tastes.

“Give them something to talk about, then. They’ve been waiting long enough.” Dani’s eyebrows lift.

“They have?”

“Owen’s been giving me shit since you and I had that first conversation outside, after—you know. After you lost it a bit. Never let me hear the end of it when he caught on,” Jamie explains, not really looking at her. She sets about putting the clothes on, voice a little muffled through the fabric of the sweater she pulls over her head. “Hannah’s too nice to say anything, but I think she knew, too.” Dani tilts her head, and when Jamie looks at her, she gives her a warm smile.

“Since the beginning, huh?” Dani asks, and Jamie turns a little pink, nothing more than a blush across the bridge of her nose.

“S’pose so, yeah,” she admits, at length, scrubbing a hand through her hair, and Dani closes the space between them, wrapping her fingers around Jamie’s hand in hair and drawing it down between them.

“Me too,” Dani says, and though it had taken some introspection to reach that knowledge, she’s certain now that it’s true. When Jamie had walked into the kitchen for the very first time, scruffy and dirty and backlit by the sun, a golden halo around her head, Dani had been stuck silent, the breath stolen right from her lungs. She hadn’t known it then where she would end up, but now that she’s here, Jamie with her, it’s all too clear what she had wanted from the beginning. She had just needed a little push. “Ready?” she finally asks, shaking herself out of her thoughts and plucking at the neckline of Jamie’s ( _Dani’s_ ) shirt until the collar lies a little flatter, less rumpled.

“Almost,” Jamie says, and then kisses her, Dani’s hand curling around Jamie’s hip as she steps in to her space. Jamie nips at her upper lip, soothes the sting with her tongue and Dani gasps in through her nose, swatting Jamie away.

“Stop that,” Dani says, but her smile is so wide she’s worried it’s going to get stuck that way. Jamie chuckles, wrapping an arm around her waist and steering her towards the door.

“Not a chance, Poppins,” she replies, and though it’s in jest, Jamie dropping her arm to open the door to an empty hallway lit end to end with twinkling lights, Dani hopes that’s it rings true, that Jamie will never stop teasing her and making it just this side of difficult to keep her wits about her.

And when they get to the sitting room, Dani’s hand in Jamie’s, Dani’s sweater a little loose around Jamie’s neck, Owen is the first who notices—he looks like he’s about to wind up in some grand speech, mouth opening, but Hannah places a gentle hand on his chest, tipping her head in a nod towards them.

“About time,” he says instead, and Jamie rolls her eyes to Dani, who can’t help the smile that spreads across her face, fingers squeezing around Jamie’s. Miles mutters an _I knew it_ to Flora, who doesn’t even look at him, face openly delighted as she approaches them.

“Come on, then! Presents!” she insists, taking each of their hands in their own and leading them to the tree. Dani’s eyes slide to meet Jamie’s as Flora and Miles descend upon the gifts with gusto, and she quirks her lips into a small grin, Jamie’s face softening to match.

Winter had come to Bly manor, certainly, Christmas following not far behind, with lights and mistletoe and good cheer—but Dani finds that she doesn’t quite need to know what’s under the tree for her, or what’s inside the stocking carefully taped to the mantle. Jamie squeezes her hand again, slotting their fingers together, and Dani leans closer, until she can prop her head up on Jamie’s shoulder.

She had already received the best gift of all: coming to Bly, meeting Owen and Hannah and Miles and Flora, every day that she would spend with them, and every night she would spend with Jamie, safe and welcome and finally, _finally¸_ wanted for who she is, not who people thought she should be.

She had found her home.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi to me on [tumblr](https://ischiocrural.tumblr.com/)!


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